


Shibusen's Strongest

by SilverFlameAlchemist



Series: Jukebox Drabbles [14]
Category: Soul Eater
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Falling In Love, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Mentions of Violence, Mentions of self-harm, Mix and Match Meisters, Multi, Other, POV Second Person, Reader is a Death Scythe, Reader is a Meister, Reader is a Weapon, Romance, Self-Insert, Song-inspired, Songfic, Surprise! You're In Love!, reader/various - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-20
Updated: 2017-03-19
Packaged: 2018-10-08 02:47:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10376130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverFlameAlchemist/pseuds/SilverFlameAlchemist
Summary: One mission turned into another and another until suddenly it turned into so much more.Reader/Various - Separate Summaries Inside





	1. Somebody's Heartbreak

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was silly, really, for him to trip over himself the moment he saw a pretty woman (although, he decided later, pretty was far too simple a word to describe how attractive you were), he was a father, for heaven's sake! He should have had no trouble talking to and look at women of any age or attractiveness, but you were different for some reason.
> 
> Spirit "Death Scythe" Albarn/Reader

_I'd love to know just what you're thinkin'_  
_Every little river, runnin' through your mind_  
_You give and you take_  
_You come and you go_  
_You leave me here wonderin' if I'll ever know_  
_How much you care or how much you don't_  
_Whatever you need, whatever you want..._

It wasn’t often that Maka brought friends over for him to meet, but on the days she did, well… It was a very special occasion. Made even more special by the simple fact that this wasn’t just any old friend he was meeting for the first time, this was _you_.

A graduate from Shibusen who had come back at the request of Death-sama in order to act as a substitute teacher and tutor for some of the students who just hadn’t quite gotten the hang of things yet.

It was silly, really, for him to trip over himself the moment he saw a pretty woman (although, he decided later, _pretty_ was far too simple a word to describe how attractive you were), he was a father, for heaven’s sake! He should have had no trouble talking to and looking at women of any age or attractiveness, but you were different for some reason.

It was the way you spoke to him with respect, even though Maka would talk down about him seconds later, the way you laughed when he teased her back, the simple fact that you had become _friends_ with _his daughter_ , and managed to make it more than a week without screaming for mercy. It was the way you tucked your hair back behind your ears and let your eyes soften when you smiled, the way you sat on his couch and sipped tea like you’d done it all your life.

Like you _would_ do it for the rest of your life.

And no, he shouldn’t be thinking of things like that (or any number of other things that had instantly sprung to mind not two seconds after), but he _couldn’t help it!_

And oh how he tried.

Maka had told him she’d put him in a body cast if he so much as looked at you wrong (and he was oddly proud of how loyal she was to her friends), so falling for you was completely out of the question!

…And yet it had happened anyway.

He saw you in the halls at Shibusen between classes, always smiling as you talked to the students or teachers, and always with that same air of respect that you had had with him. You never talked down to any of the kids (even Black Star, who _still_ couldn’t pass one of your training exercises even after all this time), and you even managed to get along with _Stein_ of all people.

He wanted to learn more about you, learn how your mind worked and whether this absurd crush of his had even the tiniest hope of being reciprocated, or if he was barking up the wrong tree entirely.

And if he found that he was, he’d still be there when you needed him, because that’s who he was… One giant bleeding heart ready to bleed just for you if you asked him to.

 _If you're gonna be somebody's heartbreak_  
_If you're gonna be somebody's mistake_  
_If you're gonna be somebody's first time,_  
_Somebody's last time, baby be mine_  
_If you're lookin' to be somebody's “just friends”,_  
_A little laughin', little lovin', never callin' again, that's just fine_  
_If you're gonna be somebody's heartbreak_  
_Be mine, yeah_  
_Oh, be mine..._

It wasn’t until he saw you fight that he really understood just how hopelessly head-over-heels he was for you.

It was an accident, really, he’d wandered out onto the terrace where you were sparring with Black Star for practice and nearly gotten sliced in half by Tsubaki. You’d _laughed_ (a completely heavenly sound), and grabbed his hand, your intent unmistakable even though this wasn’t sanctioned and he really _should not_ be letting you use him like this…

But he did anyway.

He transformed and let you run your fingers along his new form, trying not to shiver because you’d be able to feel that through your new link with him. Your soul was a bright pulse on the edge of his vision and he carefully edged towards it, ready to do whatever you asked of him.

 _“I can see why Death-sama likes you so much.”_ You commented softly as you got used to the weight of him in your hands. _“You’re so_ flexible _.”_

He _knew_ you meant that in reference to his soul wavelength, _knew_ it hadn’t been meant in any sort of context that could be seen as compromising, but _so help him_ that’s how he heard it.

It had been quite some time since someone had made him blush like that. _“I don’t know about that…”_ He grumbled back softly, beating away his embarrassment as you sidestepped another attack by the aqua-haired ninja. _“I can be pretty stubborn sometimes.”_

You grinned, nudging against his soul with your own and getting more acquainted with it as you started to spin the scythe through the air before you, getting the feel of it. _“Just the way I like ‘em.”_ Your wave lengths resonated suddenly, without much warning, and he felt his soul suddenly glow as it merged and intertwined with your own.

If he thought it had been long since he’d been made to blush, it had been even _longer_ since he’d felt like this.

He hardly felt Tsubaki’s blade bite against his, he was so focused on you. You moved so smoothly, like you’d been using him your whole life, and kept your eyes on the target. This was a _sparring_ match, and yet it felt like a real battle, your attention fully focused on your opponent and what his next move would be. Your orders came quickly and simply, and he performed them without question.

And when the battle was done and Black Star had finally admitted defeat, he almost didn’t want to change back, because he liked being so close to you, in such proximity to your shining soul. But he transformed dutifully and helped you drag Black Star back up onto his feet, a false smile on his face as he watched you and Tsubaki half-carry-half-drag him off to the clinic to treat the superficial scrapes he’d acquired from the fight.

Spirit didn’t want to have to leave your side. And (if he was being completely honest), he never wanted to have to do it again.

 _I guess that all I'm tryin' to tell ya_  
_Is a minute with you is better than two without_  
_Oh, I won't be a fool but I can't play it cool_  
_So I'm playin' safe and I'm breakin' the rules_  
_I'm wishin' I had what I know that you got_  
_So if you're comin' my way then please don't stop..._

Inevitably, of course, it all went downhill from there.

It started with his apparent need to walk in on you in embarrassing situations (like when you were changing out of clothes that an unfortunate prank had completely ruined), or his complete lack of personal cool when you walked in the room (which had resulted in him face-planting beside Stein’s chair and the scientist teasing him mercilessly for a full week after). He couldn’t even look at you in the hall without suddenly finding his feet tripped up by overly dense air, or walking into people or things (which had resulted in Maka calling him a clumsy idiot twice now, and he wasn’t able to deny it even _a little_ ).

And you, of course, noticed. The most innocent of questions from you would have him stumbling over words and sputtering as though you’d just asked if he was planning on eating any little children soon, and then you’d giggle at him (which was well within your rights to do, he decided), and he’d lose it all over again.

What was worse, of course, was when you were sent on missions together (which Spirit believed Stein had something to do with, considering he smirked every time Spirit went to him to complain), and there was no possible way for him to hide.

The absolutely _worst_ thing, however, was when you next tried to resonate souls in the middle of a fight and it didn’t work, because he was hiding things from you, and partners couldn’t do that to each other.

 _“Spirit!”_ You glared at him as you ducked back behind a boulder, trying to figure out your next move. _“What’s going on?! I need to use Witch Hunter, and I can’t do that if you don’t cooperate!”_

 _“I’m sorry!”_ And he _was_ , because this mission was slowly turning into a complete disaster, and it was entirely his fault. _“I don’t know what the matter is…”_ And _wow_ , he hadn’t thought it would hurt so much to lie to you.

 _“Well figure it out! I can’t do this without you…”_   You jumped when a thundering footstep shook the tree above you, your enemy fast approaching.

The look on your face was what really decided it for him, in the end. You looked so panicked and worried and _like hell_ he was letting you get hurt just because he was being a stubborn ass. _“You trust me?”_ He asked, unable to keep the slight shake out of his voice.

 _“I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.”_ You pointed out, managing a faint smile.

He didn’t reply verbally, instead pressing closer to where he could see your soul flickering, your hammering heart making it look like a flame caught in the wind. He let go of the secret he’d been hiding, wrapping up your soul with his own and _hoping_ you got the message before this all went straight to hell.

He opened his eyes to find himself in a small room, you standing not far from him with surprise written on your face. “Why didn’t you tell me?” You asked softly, looking less insulted and more merely curious.

“I didn’t think it would go over well.” He shrugged, not looking at you. “I told you, remember, I tend to be stubborn.”

You moved over to him, kissing him quickly before you pulled back and grinned. “And I told you, that’s just how I like ‘em.”

You grabbed his hand as his cheeks flushed red, and he was dragged back to the present and the approaching enemy that would squash you both if you didn’t do something _soon_.

 _“You trust me?”_ You asked, grinning as you held onto him a bit more tightly than before.

 _“I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.”_ He replied with a smirk.

You chuckled, nudging against his soul with your own and feeling the resonance begin. _“Just what I was hoping to hear.”_

 _Be mine_  
_Baby, baby, baby, be mine, all mine_  
_If you're gonna break someone's heart, yeah_  
_Might as well, might as well be mine..._

_"Somebody's Heartbreak" by Hunter Hayes_


	2. Perfect

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You had friends now, something you hadn't had in a long time, and you felt… at home among them. They encouraged you and told you not to give up, and in the case of Black Star, they threatened you about what would happen if you did. And one in particular, well… He did something else entirely.
> 
> Death the Kid/Reader

_Made a wrong turn,_  
_Once or twice_  
 _Dug my way out,_  
 _Blood and fire_  
 _Bad decisions,_  
 _That's alright_  
 _Welcome to my silly life..._

Your first mistake, if you were being honest with yourself, was when you had first picked up a Weapon and used it to kill the witch that was trying to hurt your family. He'd eaten that witch's soul, and you'd thought nothing of it, because that was what was supposed to happen… Right?

The next mistake you made was when you went to Shibusen and started your training, because that had been reckless and irresponsible, and there were better ways for a girl to spend her days than learning how to fight. But you were good at it, _gifted_ some of the teachers said, and you knew deep down this was where you were supposed to be. You were meant to hunt monsters and build the best Death Scythe anyone had ever seen. You planned to make your way through the Academy and be as good as you could be…

Even if you didn't think that was really that good at all.

You weren't the brightest in your class, not like Maka, and you didn't have spirit like Black Star either, and sometimes you overlooked the details, unlike Kid.

You didn't really fit in anywhere, as far as you were concerned, and you weren't really sure where you even _wanted_ to fit in, because nothing much in your life had ever really made sense up to this point, and now that you were here it made even less sense than it ever had before.

But that was you all over, unsure of how to get somewhere, but dead set on accomplishing whatever goal you'd set for yourself. You'd do whatever it took to chase your dreams and never let them go, but the path you had to take to get there was always a little fuzzy around the edges.

So you started at the bottom, by going to Shibusen, and you'd just learn to work your way up from there. And you weren't exactly alone in your struggle, either. You had friends now, something you hadn't had in a long time, and you felt… at home among them. They encouraged you and told you not to give up, and in the case of Black Star, they threatened you about what would happen if you did.

And one in particular, well… He did something else entirely.

 _Mistreated, misplaced, misunderstood_  
_Miss "no way, it's all good",_  
 _It didn't slow me down_  
 _Mistaken, always second guessing_  
 _Under estimated,_  
 _Look, I'm still around…_

It hadn't exactly been easy, those first few months training with a Weapon you didn't know all that well because you'd been forced to pick a new one. But you'd made it through alright.

And when you hadn't, you'd shrug it off and pretend it _was_ alright, because that was what you thought people wanted to see from the new kid. You wanted to pretend that everything was alright, because it made it easier for everyone if you weren't running to the nurse's station over every little cut that you ended up with after a sparring match.

So you held your tongue, you tended to your own wounds, and you let everyone think you had skin like leather, because otherwise it would have hurt way too much.

You didn't realize until your third week that the tough-girl routine was actually driving people away, because they thought you could cope on your own. And part of you, honestly, thought it might be better that way, because you didn't need them anyway, but the other part wanted to cry even harder, because that hadn't been the plan.

You had wanted to _make_ friends while you were here, not drive away whatever ones you'd managed to scrape together in that first week of scrambling to make connections.

But a few of them understood what you were doing, and they stuck around.

They pretended that you were tough, just like you did, and whenever they knew you weren't, they'd make excuses so you could keep on pretending for as long as possible. They kept an eye on you, without ever saying that was what they were doing, and every now and then, they'd tell you when they thought you'd gone on pretending long enough and just needed to stop.

Kid was the worst, though, because he'd pull you aside in hallways and classrooms without warning and tell you exactly what he thought about your stubborn attitude and what it was doing to you.

And you could never tell him to back off like you could the others, because this was _Kid_ , and you couldn't bring yourself to say something crushing to him, because of all the people in Shibusen, he was the one whose opinion mattered most to you. _He_ was the one who _mattered most_.

 _You're so mean,_  
_When you talk,_  
 _About yourself,_  
 _You are wrong._  
 _Change the voices, In your head_  
 _Make them like you Instead..._

"Oh, c'mon, Kid, I'm terrible at this. Why even bother?" You huffed as he stood beside you, watching the way you held his Weapons. They felt odd in your hands, after all your work with your own Weapon, but he had insisted that you learn how to match your wavelength with another Meister's Weapon, in case something happened (that he discreetly did not name), and you were forced to use a Weapon that wasn't your own.

"We've been through this. You have to learn how to use them effectively." He was holding your Weapon carefully, getting a feel for it before he ever started to use it. "Now, let's try this again, shall we?"

He took his stance and you took yours, but when he started forward and you pulled the trigger, nothing happened. You squeaked and ducked under his blow, coming around with a swift kick to the backs of his knees and knocking him down. You put both guns to the back of his head when he landed on his knees, but you knew there was no real threat in your stance. You couldn't fire his guns even if you had wanted to.

And you _did_.

"Well, at least your hand-to-hand has gotten better." He commented softly as you stood there awkwardly and tried to figure out what to do next.

"I told you, I'm worthless at changing my wavelength. Stein already told me I'm a one-Weapon sort of person. That's just the way it works." You let your arms fall back to your sides and took a step back from him, shrugging. "It's no big deal."

"You are not _worthless_." He snapped, standing up and brushing at the knees of his pants, a frown on his face. "So stop saying so."

"I said I was worthless at _this_." You replied, handing him back his guns and retrieving your Weapon from him. "I'm just _hopeless_ at everything else."

He rolled his eyes, sighing. "Honestly, what am I going to do with you?"

"Let me use my own Weapon?" You suggested with a bright smile, tucking your hands behind your back and rocking onto your heels. "Cause, like I said, that's what I'm good at."

"Fine, fine, no more trying to get you to use another Weapon… But in exchange, I want something from you."

You blinked, surprised by the request, but willing to go along with it all the same. "Alright, what is it?"

"No more talk of how you're hopeless or worthless, or whatever. You're an excellent Meister, and you have a good Weapon to work with. Don't let anyone, including you, say otherwise."

You giggled at that, nodding and holding out a hand. "Agreed."

 _So complicated,_  
_Look how we all make it_  
 _Filled with so much hatred_  
 _Such a tired game._  
 _It's enough,_  
 _I've done all I can think of_  
 _Chased down all my demons,_  
 _I've seen you do the same..._

What struck you as odd, above all else, was how you acted when you _weren't_ on a mission. How the inactivity of sitting around Shibusen actually got under your skin and made you itch for action. You wanted to scream or pound your fists against the walls, or _something_ , just to get all the pent-up frustration and energy out of your body.

It helped that Black Star was always willing to be a dart board for you (and when you two started going at it on the terraces of the Academy, _everyone_ knew it), but you needed more than that. You needed the hunt as well as the fight, and you didn't get that from simple sparring matches with your friends.

But you had nothing to do, no revenge that needed to be taken or great quest that needed to be finished, and when you weren't on missions, you were stewing in your room.

And when you did come back from a mission, and collapsed on your bed with a tired laugh and an ache in your bones that would last for a day at least, you were at your happiest. It was ugly and bloody, and a sad little game, but you loved it, because it made you feel alive.

And who knew, maybe that meant you weren't quite right in the head (even though Stein claimed it was completely normal, but he wasn't really one to talk), but it part of what made you, well, _you_ , so you didn't care enough to change it.

Besides, you liked the way it felt when you were on a mission, and you loved the rush of knowing you were saving the world by doing your job, so you left it at that and let the world worry about what that meant without you.

And it would have been fine until the end of eternity, but then something happened, and you felt like the ground would swallow you, _should_ swallow you, and you ran and hide from the world because Maka was your _friend_ , and hurting her was not acceptable, no matter the circumstances.

She would make it, Stein had said, but that didn't make you feel any less terrible about what had happened, about what you had done.

And you turned everyone away until the day came that Kid showed up at your door and refused to leave until you let him in, so you did.

"It was an accident." He sat beside you on your bed, his eyes carefully lowered to the floor as he let you cry in peace. "You couldn't have known she was around the corner, I was there, I know it was total chaos." He glanced in your direction without ever actually looking at you, and you hid your face against your knees. "She'll be fine, and she's not mad with you, so I don't see why you should be mad at yourself." One of his hands landed lightly on yours, and you almost jumped from the sudden contact. "So, don't blame yourself, alright?"

You sighed softly, shaking your head. "I was too into the fight, Kid, I should have known better than to just attack without knowing who was there."

"We all make mistakes." He whispered back softly. "No one's perfect, not even me, although I like to lie to myself about that in order to get by."

You laughed at that, which had been his intention, and glanced up to look at him, smiling. "I think you're perfect, Kid."

He raised an eyebrow, smiling. "You do, huh? Well, fancy that, I think you're perfect too."

 _Oh, pretty, pretty please_  
_Don't you ever, ever feel_  
 _Like your less than, less than perfect._  
 _Pretty, pretty please_  
 _If you ever, ever feel_  
 _Like your nothing_  
 _You're perfect to me..._

_"Perfect" by P!nk_


	3. So Sing Me A Love Song

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You'd always liked scythes. The way they looked, felt, worked. You liked the weight and the skill that came from using them. They weren't like other blades or guns, they took a particular sort of finesse, and you liked that you could use them along with so many other Weapons. And Soul Eater Evans, with the bright smile and cool attitude, was no exception.
> 
> Soul Eater Evans/Reader

_The tension is thick in the air_  
_Making it hard to see_  
 _I fear what is to come_  
 _And what will become of me_  
 _I say a prayer help me not run away_  
 _Will you please hold me..._

There had been moments in your life when you hadn't been sure you'd make it through in one piece. Times had been rough for you, growing up the way you did, but then you'd discovered what you were, what you could do, and things had become rough in a different way than before.

As a Meister, you could do things normal humans couldn't, but you were an odd one, able to attune your wavelength to whatever Weapon you happened to pick up. It was a handy trait to have, made it easier when you had to make up things as you went along, but for one reason or another, it made you feel like you couldn't really belong anywhere.

Even in Shibusen, where Meisters were in abundance, you were the odd one out. With the exception of a teacher or two, no one could shift wavelengths like you, and it made you feel… _Odd_.

"It's really nothing to worry about." Lord Death had told you one day over tea. "It just means you've got a knack for something no one else does. It's a good thing, really."

You wanted to believe him. You wanted to think that it made you stronger, made you a better fighter, but it was hard to think like that and still accept how different you were.

And then he came along.

You'd always liked scythes. The way they looked, felt, worked. You liked the weight and the skill that came from using them. They weren't like other blades or guns, they took a particular sort of finesse, and you liked that you could use them along with so many other Weapons. And Soul Eater Evans, with the bright smile and cool attitude, was no exception.

He had been assigned as your partner, no choosing involved, and you accepted him without a fight, knowing that even if your personalities clashed, your wavelengths would match perfectly. This was what you did, what you were good at, and it didn't matter what happened further down the road, you were his Meister now, and you would look after him.

And he, in turn, looked after you.

 _You've never failed me before_  
_Why do I feel betrayed_  
 _If I close my heart to you now_  
 _The darkness would have its way_  
 _I crave your voice. help me not fall away_  
 _Will you please hold me..._

Soul worked well for you, always doing as he was told, and you tried your best to always be there for him as well. You worked well together, efficient and easily the best team in Shibusen, but there was something under the surface, never quite out in the open, like Soul was trying to hide something from you that you couldn't see.

"What's gotten into you, anyway?" You asked one night, both sitting on the couch staring at the TV without really watching it. "You seem distant."

"You're imagining things." Soul replied without missing a beat, the way he always did when he wanted to change the subject to something less uncomfortable.

You weren't about to let him get away with it this time, though. "Soul, talk to me." You snatched up the remote and switched off the TV, removing his cover distraction. "What's the matter?"

"We've been doing a lot of higher level missions, lately." Soul managed after a moment or two of uncomfortable silence. "I'm worried about what might happen if we aren't careful."

"…Is this about your last partner?" You asked softly, remembering a name from a file you'd been shown in private. "What happened to her wasn't your fault, you know, you couldn't have—"

"She was my responsibility!" He snapped, glaring at you. "And I won't let anything happen to you either, alright? Now goodnight." He stood and stalked towards his bedroom, only stopping when you caught hold of his wrist. "What now?"

"I'm not going to let that happen." You spoke quietly, but your tone was firm. You meant it; you wouldn't let another tragedy befall the boy with silver hair. One was bad enough as it was. "But you can't shut me out, Soul; you have to trust me to know what's too much for me and what's not. I'm not a little kid."

He turned to look at you, a tired smile tugging at his lips. "No. You're a lot of things, but you're not that." He reached out and ruffled your hair, chuckling. "Alright, young lady, get to bed before I decide to tuck you in myself."

You flushed pink, releasing his wrist and doing an abrupt about-face, enjoying that thought perhaps a bit too much. There was an undeniable attraction there, his voice alone managed to make your heart pick up its heels, but you were willing to bet it was one-sided. Soul played his cards close to his chest, and you knew from experience that was the safest way to do anything.

So you kept your feelings to yourself, kept your curiosity in check and decided it didn't matter how you felt or if he felt the same. All that mattered was that you would look out for one another without fail.

 _And sing me a love song again_  
_Say the words that heal my heart_  
 _Sing me a love song and then_  
 _Let your words remind me who I am..._

"I'm so sorry." The words tumbled from Soul's lips for the thousandth time, like the more he said it the more it would help. "I'm so sorry… I'm so _sorry_."

You wanted to tell him to shut up, but you couldn't find the breath to do so. Something prodded you in the stomach, and you looked to see it was one of the broken bits of glass, still embedded into you from the explosion.

There wasn't supposed to be anyone else in the building. It was supposed to be a simple recon, but then. Well. Things had gotten complicated.

"I swore this wouldn't happen again. I promised…" Soul's voice died in his throat, face hidden in your shoulder as he held you close. "I won't lose you too." He held you tighter, voice coming out in beautiful broken notes as he sang to you, sang to fill the utter silence of the forest while you waited to be rescued.

You felt something wet slide against your cheek, and realized he was crying. You managed to extract his face from your shoulder, and put your forehead to his, smiling as best you could through the pain. "Keep singing." You mumbled, using the last little bit of breath you could muster to ask for that one little thing.

He did as you asked, voice cracking when he saw your eyes start to lose focus, or the color continue to drain from your face. He kept singing, even after help had arrived to take you both away. The song continued through the hospital and back into your home once you hobbled back in. The song never died, the words he spoke to you always lacing in with the music you could now here; the melody that held you both together.

 _'Cause you are all I need_  
_And all that I want is you with me_  
 _You are all I need_  
 _And all that I want is you with me..._

_"So Sing Me A Love Song" by Barlow Girl_


	4. Lullaby

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was then that you met him, the doctor with the scars and the slightly crazed eyes. You liked the look of him, liked the way he talked and thought, and fought… Liked that you could feel a madness in him just like yours.
> 
> Dr. Franken Stein/Reader

_Well, everybody's hit the bottom_  
_Everybody's been forgotten_  
 _When everybody's tired of being alone_  
 _Yeah, everybody's been abandoned_  
 _And left a little empty-handed_  
 _So if you're out there barely hanging on..._

Shibusen had been your last resort, the last glimmer of hope at the end of a long, hard road. You hadn't ever planned to actually take Lord Death up on his offer, preferring to act as free-lance and work by yourself, but there was something in the offer… Something in the way he had spoken that made you consider the warmth and comfort of safe walls and eyes without judgment. It would be nice to have a place to belong; somewhere to call home, somewhere to return to once you had finished another mission…

It would be nice to not be alone any longer.

You gave it a great deal of thought, of course, before you ever actually went to Lord Death and accepted his terms. There were no restrictions on your movements, no cell with your name on it, no demands that you stop your free-lancing. All he wanted was to give you a home, give you a little hope, to let you know there were people who could help you, who _would_ help you, if you asked for it. If you wanted it.

His only real requirement was that you take a Meister, someone to keep you in check and look after you while you stayed in Shibusen. Someone to help you train and get used to being surrounded by people again. Someone to help you go off souls, after so long of devouring them.

Death Scythes, after all, had a certain self-image to keep in place.

It was then that you met him, the doctor with the scars and the slightly crazed eyes. You liked the look of him, liked the way he talked and thought, and fought… Liked that you could feel a madness in him just like yours.

 _Well, I know the feeling_  
_Of finding yourself stuck out on the ledge_  
 _And there ain't no healing_  
 _From cutting yourself with the jagged edge_  
 _I'm telling you that, it's never that bad_  
 _Take it from someone who's been where you're at_  
 _Laid out on the floor_  
 _And you're not sure you can take this anymore..._

"I know you're not used to company, but I hope you won't find me too intrusive of a roommate." Stein had invited you into his house, into his life, without batting an eye.

You knew he could see souls, knew beyond a shadow of a doubt he could see yours, see the scars it held, but he had still offered you a helping hand. "I don't mind." You answered, when you realized he was waiting for a reply.

He smiled, giving the gear in his head a few slow turns. "Good to know. Why don't you get settled in, and I'll make tea? Your room is down the hall, second on the left."

You left him boiling water in beakers and slipped down the hall, knuckles white with the strain of holding onto the handle of your bag. The room was nice, uncluttered, and you let out a sigh of relief that the scars covering the rest of the house hadn't managed to make it here just yet.

You took your time setting out your things around the room, not quite sure what to do with yourself when in Stein's presence. Eventually, though, you made your way back to the front room, aware that it was rude to keep your host waiting.

Stein handed you a beaker of tea and plopped down onto one of the sofas, motioning you to sit opposite him. You did so tentatively, feeling the overwhelming urge to run start to wash over you. There was another lecture coming, you could feel it, could feel your heart pick up its pace at the mere thought of someone else yelling at you to…

"Lord Death told me about what happened to you." Stein began in a quiet voice, looking into his tea. "Most people wouldn't be able to live through that… I applaud your perseverance."

You stared at him, jaw going slack. No one had ever called you _brave_ … Not even in as roundabout way as that.

"By the way." He sat up a little straighter, smiling brightly. "Blood's really not a problem to get out of my floors— it's why I have this kind in particular… And if you ever cut a little too deep, I'll stitch you up again." He paused, watching your eyes start to fill with tears before he inclined his head in a nod, as though accepting whatever you had just given him. "It's not a pleasant place to be on your own… I know."

You dipped your head, staring at the beaker of tea. Of all the Meisters on the planet to be yours, you ended up with the crazy one with a bleeding heart. "Thank you." You mumbled, not sure what else to say.

"Of course, if you ever feel like having someone else take a knife to your skin, I'd be happy to oblige…" You snapped your head up in time to catch sight of his wide leer. "You have such _lovely_ skin, after all."

You gulped, remembering in sudden detail all the stories you had heard about Dr. Franken Stein and his experiments. You offered him a watery chuckle and nodded. "Deal."

 _So just give it one more try to a lullaby_  
_And turn this up on the radio_  
 _If you can hear me now_  
 _I'm reaching out_  
 _To let you know that you're not alone_  
 _And if you can't tell, I'm scared as hell_  
 _'Cause I can't get you on the telephone_  
 _So just close your eyes_  
 _Oh, honey here comes a lullaby_  
 _Your very own lullaby..._

Fighting with Stein, when you were both working together, was one of the most thrilling experiences of your life. He could match your wavelength perfectly; complement your style and strengths, make you ten times better than you ever were on your own. When you resonated souls, you felt complete, _whole_ , for the first time in a long time.

And life with him, mundane and simple, was just as comfortable. You could watch him grade papers or write tests for his class, you could pretend you had always been this stable, this normal, this whole.

It wasn't perfect, not by a longshot, but it was something. Something that was yours, something that felt good. Something you didn't have to give up or share.

And you still had nights where you found yourself curled up in a corner, hiding from the rest of the world, but those nights were also full of quiet reassurances and golden eyes hidden behind silver bangs.

Stein wouldn't let you suffer alone, either because of orders or genuine concern, and when you hid, he came to find you. Whatever the reason behind it, you appreciated the sentiment, and never stopped him from helping you claw your way back out of whatever pit you had fallen into at the time.

He didn't give you empty pep-talks like the others, he simply sat with you in your room and kept you company. He didn't try to tell you to get over it, or just deal with the pain; if he talked at all it was about his latest experiment, or what the kids had managed to do correctly in class, something to take your mind off the hole in your stomach and the pit you were being swallowed up in.

The night he first touched you while you were hiding, you thought you might start sobbing all over again, because it was so gentle, so careful, as though you might shatter into a million pieces under his touch.

"I called for you." His voice was soft, its own lullaby to your raging thoughts. "Why didn't you answer?" The question was rhetorical, he knew the scalpel was missing from his surgery, could see it by your feet on the floor, could probably smell the blood in the air. "I could have helped."

It was your turn to not talk, to keep silent and not look at him, because you didn't want to see the disappointment in his eyes, didn't want to face what always came next— the lectures and restrictions, the ignorance over what this did to you…

He picked up the scalpel, tucking it into the pocket of his lab coat, sitting beside you silently, pulling your arm gently away from your knees and inspecting the damage. "These will heal just fine. No scars. You won't even need stitches." He slipped his arm around your shoulders, turning over your other arm to see the marks you had made there too. "I'll say this once, and then I'll be quiet about it… Doing this, it leaves marks on your soul. I see them. Even when you hide from me, I can tell when you've been hurting yourself." His voice dropped an octave, the light, silly tone from before gone now. "Those won't heal. I can't stitch them back together, no one can. Your flesh heals and knits back together; it is created to do that… But your soul needs protecting. Needs to be treated gently."

"How many are there?" You asked softly, morbid curiosity getting the better of your for a moment. "Can you see them all?"

"Just one— it grows, when you do this." He replied. "There's one jagged scar that runs across the surface, spreading whenever you fall back into this routine."

"What happens if it keeps growing?" You still couldn't meet his eye, but you managed to turn towards him a little, to lean into him as he continued to hold you gently.

"It will tear you apart." The reply was immediate and harsh, the reality of it meant to give weight to his earlier warning. "I can help. And who knows, it might be an interesting experiment to see if one can heal the scars of a soul…" He caught your chin in one hand, lifting your face until your eyes met his. "Shall we try it?"

You took a breath, staring up into his eyes and wondering about all the things that could happen, all the things that could go wrong… And then you caught the scent of blood still lingering in the air, and your resolve cemented itself in your chest, a steady beat that matched your heart, made it stronger. "Let's start the experiment, Doctor."

 _Please let me take you_  
_Out of the darkness and into the light_  
 _'Cause I have faith in you_  
 _That you're gonna make it through another night_  
 _Stop thinking about the easy way out_  
 _There's no need to go and blow the candle out_  
 _Because you're not done_  
 _You're far too young_  
 _And the best is yet to come..._

_"Lullaby" by Nickelback_

**Author's Note:**

> Soul Eater and All Related Characters belong to: Atsushi Okubo


End file.
